


Out Of The Bag

by cruentum



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Community: writerinadrawer, WriterInADrawer 4.07
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-27
Updated: 2010-07-27
Packaged: 2017-10-10 20:14:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruentum/pseuds/cruentum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This story is part of a short-duration writing contest.  Please do not comment on this story, positively or negatively, until this notice is removed.  If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Out Of The Bag

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a short-duration writing contest. Please do not comment on this story, positively or negatively, until this notice is removed. If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer.

Jack knew something was afoot. This wasn't as insidious as it had been in the times they didn't mention anymore, before and after Jack had uncovered Lisa in the Hub, before and after their gaily blossoming relationship of sorts had ground to a halt momentarily, but Ianto was hiding something. Jack took to looking through flower pots in the tourist office and searching Ianto's internet history on both his computer at home when Ianto was asleep and their system at work.

Tosh caught him once and he covered it up with porn. Smooth.

He was watching Ianto as he walked from the kitchen to his desk, from his desk to the toilet, from the toilet to his desk, from his desk to Jack's office, hello there, and back again, but there was nothing abnormal. It was scratching at Jack though, somewhere in his sixth sense hindbrain something in the hurried glances, the jerky movements, Ianto's glances to the internal CCTV cameras meant something.

So he stayed late. And Ianto stayed later.

So he got up early and found Ianto already making coffee and featherdusting Myfanwy's nest (talk about confusing there).

It wasn't that his fingers didn't naturally stray to the CCTV recordings, indeed that had been his first instinct, but the pop-up note whenever he accessed the menu on the mainframe said,

_DON'T DO IT, JACK_.

Alex had installed that back when Jack had used it to spy on Alex wanking in his office, and Jack's backbuttoning whenever it flashed up was somewhat ingrained.

But on the morning Ianto dropped the tray with coffees and broke Jack's favourite mug because Owen was laughing at something on his computer screen, no pop-ups could keep him from the delights of internal security footage (it was for the good of Torchwood and not just his private curiosities).

He waited until the night, when Ianto said good night with a furtive and admittedly suspicious glance over his shoulder, climbing the stairs as his car keys jingled nervously in his hand, and settled into his chair.

And then he gaped. And laughed. And-

* * *

They were having scones and butter and coffee over their breakfast meeting. It had been a long night, no simple clean-up and everyone sat slumped in their seats.

Ianto was busy refilling their mugs.

"Some more cream?" Jack asked as Ianto poured.

The stream of coffee jerked, hit the rim of the cup and then was directed back to the middle of the cup.

Jack grinned broadly.

Ianto looked back with narrowed-eyes suspicion.

* * *

One of the few lazy mornings in, it must have been a Sunday, and Jack was the one waking Ianto with coffee and breakfast, exemplary twenty-first century boyfriend that he was. Ianto huddled under the covers, kicking at Jack whenever Jack tried to draw away the blanket for a romantic breakfast for two, non-exemplary twenty-first century boyfriend that Ianto was. Jack set the tray aside and moved his hand under the covers until his fingertips just brushed against Ianto's skin.

Ianto unfolded under Jack's touch. First his fingers, then hands and arms came out at the top of the blanket, then his feet and calves at the bottom of the blanket as Jack stroked Ianto's side slowly from armpit to hipbone.

Ianto turned his face, still blanketed, towards Jack and rubbed it against Jack's chest.

"Mmmm, lazy kitty," Jack mumbled, then found himself with an armful of blanket and spilled coffee on his mattress and Ianto in the bathroom.

* * *

Jack was watching the exact moment Ianto opened the email on his screen.

The screenshot had been chosen wisely, work of genius, if Jack could say so.

Ianto's gaze snapped around to Jack's office.

Jack waved.

* * *

"Oh look at you being all cute." Jack grabbed a handful of popcorn from the bowl and shoved it into his mouth. He laughed, sprayed popcorn bits over Ianto's desk.

The security footage was running on Ianto's computer.

Jack had called it a dinner date, movie and all. Popcorn, of course. He'd even bought Ianto beer, see exemplary twenty-first century boyfriend. Not that Ianto had had much choice after the email and the _IMAGINE THE FACE OWEN WILL MAKE WHEN_.

Ianto's fingers were white around the edge of the desk.

"Oh wait, wait for it, this is my favorite!" Jack pointed at the screen. "You crawl through under there and then you twirl after that dustball and then Myfanwy--hah!" Jack coughed around the popcorn. "I love that. That's a classic."

"Jack."

"Aw cute kitty, look, you're all scared."

"Tiger," Ianto pressed out and glanced sideways at Jack.

"What?"

"Note the stripes. Tiger."

Jack raised his eyebrows.

"Roar."

Jack blinked, then looked back at the screen. "No wait, this one, this one. Why did you even climb up there? But then you do and... wait... and ... splash!"

Ianto-on-the-screen flailed and scampered back out of the pool to the boardwalk.

"Poor ickle kitty."

"Tiger," Ianto ground out.

Ianto-on-the-screen looked at the CCTV cameras, then lifted its paw and licked it slowly just as Ianto-in-the-chair slurped spilled beer off his wrist.

Jack smirked. "Point made."

* * *

The system had crashed and they were working late trying to bring it back up. Jack was bored with a capital b (Bored). Ianto was working, spoilsport.

"Grrr.... raaaaawr," Jack whispered into Ianto's ear as he came up behind him and drew his nails down his side. "Good kitty."

Ianto swatted him away and continued to hack the system.

"So--how?" Jack asked, leaning against Ianto's desk. He watched Ianto's eyes track the text on the screen, narrow, squint, roll.

"What?"

"Kitty, kitty."

"Tiger," Ianto said and typed in a combination of letters.

"Tiger. How?"

Ianto leaned back in his chair, arms crossed behind his head. "So how--the not dying thing?"

Jack tried to stare him down but Ianto didn't look away, only raised his eyebrows, then turned back to the computer screen with a smirk.

"Kitty," Jack said to the side of Ianto's face, but Ianto only gave him the V.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of a short-duration writing contest. Please do not comment on this story, positively or negatively, until this notice is removed. If you are interested in this contest please visit http://community.livejournal.com/writerinadrawer.


End file.
